My First Daddy Read online B.B. Hamel (Dark Daddies #7)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Dark Daddies Series by B.B. Hamel
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Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 43551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
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I walk over to the single gate and pull a key from my pocket. I unlock the padlock and pull it aside for Avery.

“You’re showing me this?” she asks, confused.

“I’m showing you what’s inside. It’s a warehouse, you know. They’re for storing things.”

She glares at me. “Thanks, asshole.”

“Just come on.”

She sighs and I shut the gate behind her, locking it again. We hurry to the front door and stop as I enter a pin code into a number pad next to the handle. It unlocks with an audible click.

I pull it open. “It looks abandoned from the outside,” I tell her, “and that’s on purpose. People are less interested if they think there’s nothing inside.”

“Oh, really?”

“I actually put a ton of money into securing this building.”

“Why?”

We step into a little entrance room. I flip on a light and we’re greeted with a comfortable carpet, wood paneling on the walls, couches, and a fireplace. It looks like a living room from some rich guy’s dreams.

Because that’s exactly what it is.

Avery laughs a little. “What the hell?”

“Not what you were expecting?” I smirk and walk over to a bar set against one wall. “Drink?”

“No, thanks. It’s like… nine in the morning.”

I shrug and pour a little whiskey. I always have a drink when I come here. “Not many people get to visit this place.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asks, looking around. “You should let people come in here more often.”

“It’s more like a private space,” I say.

“So you needed a whole warehouse for that?”

“Well… no. I needed a warehouse for all the stuff I wanted to store.”

“What could you possibly have that needs so much space?”

I grin at her and sip my drink. There are three doors along the opposite wall, and Avery follows my gaze.

“Pick a door, any door,” I say.

She groans. “If I pick the wrong one, am I going to get thrown in the river or something?”

“Nope, there’s no wrong choice here.”

“Is there a right choice?”

I laugh but don’t bother answering.

She sighs and chews on her lip. “Okay, fine. Let’s go in the middle room.”

“Good choice.” I walk over to the door and enter the pin into the number pad. The door unlocks and I push it open. “Come on.”

I head down a long hallway. Avery hurries to keep up. The carpet continues, and lights turn on as we move forward, illuminating the path ahead.

The hallway ends in another door. I enter yet another code and push it open.

We step into blackness. Well, it’s not complete blackness. Some light streams in from the windows up above, near the roof of the warehouse.

I clear my throat and the lights start to come on, illuminating row after row of cars.

Avery whistles and steps forward. “Holy crap.”

“This is my car collection.”

We walk forward. There are fifty-three cars in here from all different years, including a beat up old Model T that probably belongs in a museum.

“Why do you have so many?” she asks.

“Honestly?” I run my fingers over a Porsche two-seater. “I don’t know. I got bored a while back, and I have so much stupid money, I figured… why not collect something absurd?”

“And you landed on cars?”

“Pretty much.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Have you driven them all?”

“At least once,” I say. “All the ones that can drive. A few are too old.”

We walk along among the cars. Avery runs her fingers over them. I have trucks, sports cars, old muscle cars, rare cars, that sort of shit. Lots of classics, lots of expensive pieces that only exist in a few other collections. I probably have several million dollars’ worth of cars in here, at least.

“So you brought me here to show off your car collection, huh?” She turns to me, a little smile on her lips. She leans against a classic Mustang and crosses her arms.

“Not at all,” I say softly. “I just wanted to show you…” I reach for the words, but I have trouble finding them. I feel stupid, silly, absurd. I feel like a dumb old man embarrassing myself in front of someone much younger.

Someone that can’t really understand what I’m thinking about.

“What?” she asks, cocking her head.

I turn away. “Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“No, come on. Don’t be like that.”

I grumble a little and walk back to the far door. There are three doors in this room, and I lead her to the one on the right. “Come on, let’s check this out.”

She follows me, but this time there’s no long hallway.

We step into a smaller room full of tables and metal racks. There are electronic components on each rack, and on closer inspection, they’re all old computers.

Avery looks around. “Another collection?”

“Yep,” I say. “What do you think?”

She hesitates. “I think… I don’t know what to think, honestly.”

I laugh. “I know. Most people see this and wonder what the hell I have all this junk for. But look, some of these are the first consumer computers ever made. They’re rare pieces of our history.”


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